


Better or Worse?

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: There's a very simple cure for sore freckles.





	Better or Worse?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Soyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soyna/gifts).



“Dude, everything hurts.”

They had only been out of the city for three days. Not even that, if Noctis was tracking it down to the hour— and he knew that Gladio was. The safety of the Wall still curled above them, but this had been the first time any of them— to Noctis’ knowledge— had seen where his father’s magic ended. Where the shine and shimmer of the barrier amplified by the Crystal itself met the rocky shores beyond the Northern Gate and the oceanside fortifications. They could see, from the little haven they had now claimed as their own along the edge of the Lucian kingdom, where the wilds of Eos began, and home ended in a crashing, jagged coastline along the barren, cold outcrop barely fit for the single outpost it sustained. 

“I know,” Noctis answered, already eyeing up the comforts of the tent. 

Already thinking up the excuse to ignore the cool-down exercises, and the ways to cajole Gladio into letting them rest. Just for this one night. 

It was a training exercise. 

Meant to initiate Prompto into the ranks. Into their tight-knit little group. Into the Prince’s Retinue, for whatever that meant; not quite Kingsglaive, not quite Crownsguard, but meant to act as both. 

Gladio had told them it was just a short camping trip. A few days out of the city, where they could breathe in the fresh ocean air and stargaze without the lights of the city. Where they would relax in the comforting glow of a haven while Ignis managed their time and resources, while Gladio came up with activities to spend the day. 

Noctis decided that he should have thought this through more. 

No one had mentioned the hikes, or the sparring, or the survivalist training that usually resulted in some sort of first aid crash course. 

“My feet hurt,” Prompto muttered as he sprawled next to Noctis on the cool, comforting plateau of the haven. 

“Mine too,” Noctis agreed, already counting the stars as Gladio stepped over them to start the fire and clear away their training weapons. 

“My arms are killing me,” Prompto had stretched himself out, arms above his head, legs stretched out. “I’m not meant for swords.”

Gladio chuckled as he stepped back over them and plopped himself down into one of the canvas chairs placed around the fire. He pulled a drink from the cooler as Ignis ignored the griping and groaning, and Noctis decided that it wasn’t fair that they should both be completely fine. “You’re really not.”

“Don’t laugh!” With a groan, Prompto pulled himself up to a sitting position. Back to the fire and trying to glare at the amusement of his friends. “My freckles hurt! Freckles! This is serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Ignis agreed, back to them as he examined their supplies, but the smile evident in his voice.

“Might need to kiss and make it better,” Gladio agreed, already reaching for the book that had been stashed under his preferred seat. “Old first aid trick.”

“Worth a shot,” Noctis grinned as he pulled himself up, and kissed Prompto’s nose. Just a peck as he got up, as he pulled himself to his feet. “Better? Or worse?”

Prompto buried his reddened face in his hands with a squeak of despair as Noctis ruffled his hair on his way past. He muttered, barely heard over the crackling fire and the crashing waves, “Better.”


End file.
